The Conversion Bureau: Stranded
by Zachosis
Summary: While on a counter-assault in China, a platoon of Marines is shocked to find that the towns are empty. Some evidence leads to forced evacuation, but that doesn't explain the grape-smelling substance splattered everywhere...
1. Chapter 1

_This story will be quite short. Maybe just a few chapters will be it. Yes, it is another Conversion Bureau story. This one is focusing on the initial strike. I'm taking a little break from the other stories. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about them._

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**Chapter One: Just Another Day in Hell**

Heat. I fucking hate it. I wanted so much to get back to the cooler air of my home country, but I had a job to do. We were in this foreign land to do one thing and one thing only. Kill the bad guys. We had just pushed these fuckers back from America a few months ago, and now we were on the offensive. I wished that the civilians didn't look at us with such concern. We weren't here to kill them. Shit, one of my best friends is from this place.

Hmm. I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Corporal Mikhail Remiola. I am part of the U.S. Marines, in an assault on enemy territory. Let me set the stage. It's 2032, and the world couldn't be any less shitty. The economies of the world have taken a shit ever since the oil shortage of 2026.

A terrorist group, known as Al-Nahra, kicked the whole thing off with the assassination of the president of Saudi Arabia. Soon, a whole armed rebellion was taking place all over the Middle Eastern region. Think about the Arab Spring times a hundred. Little did America know, China was supporting these terrorists. We only found that out after a short skirmish with Chinese forces in Syria. Shortly after, China declared war on the US and its allies. An invasion on US soil was all it took for the shit to hit the fan. America was asking for help from everyone, and soon the whole world was dragged into this. Pretty soon, we had a World War on our hands.

That isn't the worst thing.

While we were out fighting, a few months after my deployment, apparently an alien race of colorful horses gained contact with humanity. They came through portals in America, which I thought was strange. They must have been aware that it was now secure and relatively safe from the war as of now. This really rustled my jimmies, as they must have been watching us for quite a while.

So, after they established that they were friendly, these pastel horses proposed that humans might want to be turned into ponies so they could live in their land via a chain of facilities called "The Conversion Bureau". Humanity, of course, said "fuck no," but the bureaus opened anyways. After a year or two some humans tried it out, and afterwards, they went frolicking around cities and towns, spreading propaganda about how great it was to be ponified.

Now, personally, I am neutral on this whole situation with ponification, but I am beginning to lean on the negative side of it. Over five million humans had converted in America, and the facilities already began to pop up in other nations, specifically ones held by the Allies: Canada, Great Britain, France, Brazil, and many more.

So far, the number of ponified is reaching close to sixty million.

And just like that, the bureaus shut down. No more being admitted, operations had ceased completely, and that left lots of people angry. The poor sods actually let the propaganda infect their minds, so when anyone said "Equestria," their minds were automatically filled with sunshine, rainbows, happiness, and a new start.

We military men weren't allowed to convert. It's not that the bureau wouldn't let us in, it's just that people in high up places on the chain of command said it was a waste of a perfectly good soldier. Yep, we were basically in this until we died or until the war was over. No discharge, no Purple Hearts, and no Medals of Honor until we were victorious.

There were rumors that a guy in my platoon was to receive the Distinguished Navy Cross, because apparently he did something awesome involving an RPG, but I wasn't around to see it. But, in the end, whatever he did with the RPG ended up with his foot being nearly cut off by a large piece of metal. Now, the military didn't want to lose a soldier over a stupid injury like that, so they found another job for him. The lucky bastard was no longer viable to fight on the front lines, so they made him a helicopter mechanic at one of our firebases.

It then kind of became a joke amongst the battalion. People started saying that if you got a little cut or something, that you would be sent back to base to get a different job.

Me, I found this joke stupid and immature. We were trained to get the job done without mistakes, and these guys were all fucking around, taking nothing seriously. The leader of the platoon, Captain Capola, often praised me for being the most disciplined man in the unit. I was raised in Chicago by drunks, and I got beat up by other kids of the neighborhood on a daily basis, so you can imagine that I was pretty tough, even though all of those pussies couldn't throw a punch for shit.

When my dad wasn't drunk, he was teaching me how to box, and when my mother wasn't drunk, she was teaching me that violence is never okay. Of course I was on my dad's side most of the time. I only ever won one fight with those kids, but I didn't only use my fists. I used a razor that I had bought from the local hardware store.

Well, I ended up nearly killing a kid.

The charges were dropped because it was self defense. But that experience changed me. It made me feel tough. It made those kids never get near me again. I carried that razor everywhere until I was about seventeen, when a few men all in black suits came up to our door a few months after the war started.

I was drafted.

And now, here I am. Five years later in ninety degree weather carrying an assault rifle and eighty pounds of other gear. What was funny was that the kids who liked to beat me up were put in the same damn platoon. It was like they separated the neighborhoods into units of future troops. I later learned that that was exactly what they did. Three of them were already dead, though. Killed in a firefight a few weeks back. I kind of felt sad, because they had toughened me up and I wouldn't be the soldier I am without them.

So, back to now, we were heading west, straight into China-controlled Mongolia. We were making great progress, as we had already surrounded the Chinese. We had Russia coming down from the top, other Allied troops from the west, India and Pakistan (yes, Pakistan) coming from the south, along with American support. I was part of the assault from the east. We had taken Japan and the Koreas within half a year after fighting the Chinese back out of America.

Kim Jong-Un didn't give us the fight that he promised to give. He was killed by Korean rebels before we could get to him. We barely had to do anything in Korea because the rebels handled themselves quite well.

My platoon was headed towards a small town in northern China to hopefully win the support of the locals there. Although it was hot as Satan's crotch, the scenery was great. The sun coming up over the mountains provided a peaceful feeling. We all had a chance to calm down a bit during this hike. Not twenty four hours ago we were in a massive firefight.

We soon saw a large cluster of buildings on the foot of a mountain, and the captain announced with relief that that was the destination. As we marched into the town, we noticed how barren it seemed. We normally got an unwelcome reception by the locals, but this was different. It was like the people just vanished. A bicycle was laying on its side on the road, and several doors were open. We were beginning to think that the Chinese had evacuated this village.

"Everyone split up into four man teams and search for civilians. Bring any wounded to this house. This will be our CCP." Capola said as he pointed to one if the larger huts.

As me and a few Marines headed towards the other side of the village to start there, I heard a faint ticking. It got faster as we went by the market and slower as we passed.

"Hold up." I told the others.

I walked a few feet back towards the market, and the ticking got louder. I had soon established that a piece of gear was making the sound. I unslung my backpack and looked through it all to find the source. I soon found my Geiger device, and it was showing a measurement of 5.6 mSv. Nearly the amount of radiation you would absorb if you were to go to Chernobyl right now and stand there for an hour.

I got on my radio.

"Captain, my Geiger counter is measuring a five point six in mSv. What do you make of that?"

"Not sure, but as long as it isn't dangerous, we're fine for now, over."

"Sir, I'm thinking that's why they vacated the area, over."

"Possibly. Resume your search and come back with results and we'll talk about the rads later, over."

"Rog'."

My fire team continued about three hundred yards towards the end of the road. I pointed to the hut that was somewhat separated from the rest and we hustled over. The door was already open, so we cautiously entered, checking corners with safeties off. We noticed more evidence of sudden evacuation. Rice and beans were set on the small table as if someone had cooked them just for us. I put my uncovered forearm near it, and it was for sure freshly made. A few things were knocked over here and there, and a few small objects were strewn about the floor.

"It's like they just vanished out of thin air." One of the Marines said.

"This is weird, man. I'm starting to get the creeps." Another said.

After another thorough check, we decided that the house was clear. We left the house, spray painting a small mark next to the door. We were required to do that now to signify that the house was clear. Kind of stupid if you ask me. It just gives any hiding enemies a chance to go to that house because they know it was already cleared.

We went on towards the next house cautiously, and did the same maneuver. More hot dinner and no sign of what happened to the residents, until one of us spotted something.

"Hey, there's a big part of the wall all covered in this goop."

I went over to the leatherneck. A thick, purple substance was stuck to the wall, with small sparkling bits of glass in it.

"Smell it." I said.

The leatherneck put his face closer to it and took a little sniff.

"Smells like grape, dude." He said.

He put his non-gloved hand towards it, but I stopped him.

"No. Don't touch it. Remember how people said that the ponification serum smelled and tasted like grape?" I said.

"Come on, man. There's no way rural Chinese rice farmers are going to have that stuff."

"There's such thing as something called the black market." I said.

He just straight faced me.

"Still, don't touch it."

We continued our search of the house and found another blotch of the grape-smelling substance, but nothing else. As I marked the house, the radio flared.

"Has anyone else seen this gooey grape stuff?" One guy said.

"Affirmative, it's been in the last three houses we searched." Another said.

"Yeah, we saw it too." I said.

"It's all splattered on the walls and stuff, like it exploded."

Capola then got on.

"All of you, resume your search. We don't have time to talk about grape jelly stuck to the walls."

Almost every squad said "Yessir," at the same time.

We continued the search for civilians until the last houses had been marked. We all regrouped near the entrance to the town, my Geiger counter going crazy again near the market. Everyone had reported the thick purple liquid in almost every other house. Marines all over were talking about it as if it were an amazing magic trick. The captain told us to stay on high alert, so we all kind of sat in a perimeter around the entrance, keeping our eyes on the mountains and empty huts.

"No. It's completely deserted... I have no idea what happened... Yes sir."

Captain Capola put the radio away.

"Everyone up. We're heading to the next town. Nothing else to do here."

We all got into a five meter spread as we walked down the road out of the town. I heard multiple Marine's Geigers go off as we passed through the market again. Everyone looked puzzled as they looked around for the source of the sudden spike. Yeah. This was something unnatural. Radiation doesn't get that high without a sentient cause.

We all hoped that the next town would hold some more evidence of a forced evacuation. We didn't want to have to keep searching. We all wanted to go home. We wanted the mission and the war to be over. But we were far, far from being done.


	2. Chapter 2

_So, hardly any favs, follows, or views? Okay..._

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**Chapter Two: Contact**

Remember when I said I hate heat? Well now I had to bear the Gobi Desert.

We had now been out here for at least a day more than we were supposed to be. The mission was simple: get to the Mongolian border and wait for reinforcements. Has that happened? No. We had even expected it to be a short mission, so nobody packed enough MREs to even last a week. You can't exactly get more food from a giant desert, so we just hoped we wouldn't need to be out here for too long.

We found yet another empty village right near the border, so we decided to just stay there until we got the reinforcements we needed. Luckily, I didn't have to stay in the boring, empty village. The captain sent me and my squad out to do a recon run within a ten-mile radius of the town. I wanted to tell him that we could just look out over the sandy nothingness until we saw movement, but he was a thorough man, and wanted to be sure.

He sent me; my buddy Daegan; our SAW gunner, Hesh; two medics, Bryson and Nichols; and a grenadier, Jacobs. All good guys, all good soldiers.

Daegan was an extremely skilled marksman and had a laid back attitude. He was a "glass half full" kind of guy. Hesh was all business. If it wasn't an order to lay down suppressive fire then he didn't listen. Bryson and Nichols were childhood friends, both in their late twenties and willing to help anybody out. Jacobs was just like me: mean when he was in a bad mood; and turned funny and chill when he was in a good mood.

As my squad and I were patrolling through the desert, about three miles from the town now, we noticed what looked like a blown over tent. We went over to investigate the object without second thought. As the rest of my squad formed a perimeter, me and two other guys began to look through the debris. There was a lot more than just part of a tent.

"Dude, more pony stuff." Daegan said.

I went over as he picked up a saddlebag with an Equestrian flag printed on it. While walking over to him, I tripped over something else. I had to laugh along with the squad mates who saw me to pretend I wasn't embarrassed. I brushed the sand from my face and weapon as Daegan went through the saddlebag.

"This pony didn't have much. Only a canteen and some papers."

I listened to him as I started digging out whatever I had tripped over. As I scooped sand away from the wooden object, I realized the very cutie mark of the leader of Equestria, Princess Celestia, along with a label that read "Compound 2."

I finally got got enough sand away for me to pull it put of the ground, but it was light. I could see through the cracks on the sides and top that the box was empty. I took out my camera and took a few pictures of the box and logo on it. I then went over and photographed the saddlebag and it's contents, along with any other items we found.

We decided to move on and continue to scout the area. Now me, I was hoping for an oasis of some sort to get a drink, as our canteens were beginning to run dry. I had brought three canteens on this mission, and I was already dry on two. I also began to notice that my lips were chapped as hell, so moving them in the slightest made them hurt.

As we patrolled the vast desert of nothing, Daegan stopped. He pulled up the scope on his DMR and concentrated for a second.

"Movement." He said in a half-shout.

As per routine, we all dropped to the ground. Not that it would make any difference, as six dots of green were quite easily spottable in the open desert. We all crawled on the ground, sand gathering in our clothes and gear. Me and Daegan got behind a tall rock with some dead shrubbery, and the others got behind their own respective rocks as well. Daegan pulled up his scope to take a look at the figures.

"Hey, man. I think they're ponies." Daegan said.

"No way. Out in the desert?" Jacobs asked.

"Yeah, they're wearing hoods and goggles and stuff. There're three of them. Two adults and a little one."

"Let's go talk to 'em." Bryson suggested.

We all got out of our cover, presuming that these ponies weren't a threat. As we began to walk towards the trio of ponies, one of them looked over at us. I couldn't tell what his face showed, as they were about a hundred meters away, but after he turned back to the other two, they began to run at us. We stopped right where we were and raised our guns.

"U.S. Marines! U.S. Marines! Stop!" Nichols yelled.

The ponies refused to cease their running. They were now only about twenty meters away, and we could now see their mixed expressions of glee and exhaustion.

"Hold up, guys. They aren't gonna do us any harm." I said, raising my hand.

"Praise Celestia, you found us!" The light pink mare said.

"What the heck are y'all doin' out here?" Bryson asked.

"We were a part of a larger tour group and we got separated. Please, we are in desperate need for help. We've been out here for days!" The brown stallion said with a young, deep voice.

"A tour in China? What the hell were you guys thinking? We're at war with these assholes!" Daegan said.

"Please, we'll explain later. We need water, food, and our son's leg is injured." He said.

The small colt on the stallion's back lifted up a weak, bloodied leg. The look of desparation and pain on his face was saddening. It tore at my heart to see such a young fellow in so much pain. Yeah, I have a soft spot for kids. But what kind of sick bastard would look at a face like that and not help?

"Alright, folks. We'll get you back to our F.O.B. and hopefully we'll be able to get you all back to Equestria." I said.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you!" The mare practically cried.

"Here, let's get the most urgent of issues taken care of." I said.

I pointed to the tall rock that we had used as cover a second ago, and we marched over.

"Bryson, Nichols, help the little guy with his leg." I commanded.

I took out my spare canteen full of warm water and handed it to the stallion, who must have had a horn hidden under his hood, because he levitated the canteen over to his son, tipping the canteen so his weak offspring could take sips from it. He then moved it over to the mare.

"Thank you, so much." He said.

"We're United States Marines, sir. No better friend, no worse enemy." I said.

"Hooah." The rest of the squad said in unison.

"I would've guessed that you boys were military. Now I know we're safe." The stallion said.

"We don't know if we're safe yet, sir. We still need to secure this region. We'll lead you back to the town, but as of now that's as much as we can do." I offered.

"Again, thank you. We would be skeletons in the sand without you."

The colt winced as Bryson touched gingerly at the wound with a gauze pad. I looked over at how they were doing.

"Sorry, buddy." He said.

"It hurts so bad!" The colt said.

"I know, buddy, but if I don't get it nice and clean, it'll get worse."

The cream colt clenched his teeth and tightly shut his eyes as he turned his head away.

"It's alright, little buddy. You can cry." Bryson said with a comforting voice.

A small whimper came from the colt's clenched teeth, followed by a single tear down his face. Little sobs came from his mouth now as he began to let it all out. His mother came to his side and gently ran her hoof along his back.

"You've got a tough kid. With a wound that deep I would have been bawling like a baby or even passed out." I said.

"He has always been pretty tough. When he was a little foal he didn't walk so well, and unlike the other foals who cried when they fell over, he always just looked like he didn't know what happened, and he usually fell on his face." The stallion said, stifling a laugh.

I had to chuckle a bit as well, but I couldn't really feel any kind of humor in a situation like this.

"Pick it up. I don't want to hang out here much longer." Daegan said, scanning the horizon.

I took hold of my M4 and stood up. I pulled my scarf over my mouth to try and shield my lips and nose from the harsh, dry wind. Bryson finished wrapping up the colt's leg and then he put away his supplies.

"Alright, little buddy, I'm gonna put you on your dad's shoulder, alright?" Bryson said.

"Mmhm." The child moaned.

Bryson picked the colt up by his mid section and set him on the stallion's back. The stallion adjusted the colt's position and nodded to me. We continued our trek through the desert back towards the village. Daegan tried multiple times to get the captain on the radio, but all that responded was static. Hesh sighed heavily, adjusting the strap of his LSAT on his shoulder. Regardless, we kept going. We stopped once to empty our bladders, but other than that, we kept moving.

The desert was getting to us. We were all growing irritable and I'd be lying if I said that I didn't want to ask when we'd be there. But as of now, I was the squad leader, so I had to keep a tough mentality as best as I possibly could. The wind picked up slowly as we walked, making us grow uneasy. I hated the very thought of getting lost in a sandstorm. Being lost is one of my biggest fears. But, sure enough, Daegan looked out over the horizon and saw a giant wall of sand, and it was closing fast.

"Let's double time it. I don't want to get caught in that." I said.

We all picked up the pace, heading through a valley between two large mountains, figuring that it'd be a shortcut back to the village. Before, we walked around the mountains, which stretched a few miles north, the village being on the other side, but we wanted to save as much time as possible. The ponies had some trouble navigating the large, jagged rocks while also trying to keep their son secure, so Nichols volunteered to carry the little guy.

Despite our best efforts of getting to the town fast, the sandstorm got us. We had to take cover in a cave while it passed over, but this was not a sissy sandstorm. We found ourselves waiting in that cave for hours. The storm blocked out the sun, so it got pretty dark outside.

"So, mind telling us why you folks were out in the middle of the Gobi Desert?" I asked.

The stallion sighed.

"Well, a few days ago, we were part of a large tour group that was traveling Earth, visiting all sorts of landmarks, monuments, you name it. The guides figured that it would be nice to stop and picnic near an oasis. Our son ran off, so we went looking for him. When we found him and went back to where we had stopped, the group was gone. We tried to go in the direction that the guides talked about, but we got lost."

"Were your guides aware of the fact that China is restricted to outsiders as of now? What were they thinking?"

"Most of us were skeptical about the route we were taking, but the guides wouldn't stop telling us 'we'll be fine, we'll be fine.'" The mare said.

"That's awfully irresponsible. Make sure that their little tour company gets shut down when we get you back." I told them.

"Oh, we will." The stallion said.

We all then kind of sat there in an awkward silence for a few hours, just waiting for the storm to pass over, making small talk every once in a while. Excitement was not nonexistent, though. While we sat in the cave, we heard something. I hushed everyone. It sounded like rocks shifting outside, but the sound of the storm mostly suppressed it. We didn't want to pass it off as nothing, though, so I took a closer look outside. I raised my M4 and everyone went still. The sound of rocks moving and hitting each other got closer and closer.

All of us went deathly silent. After a few seconds of waiting at the mouth of the cave, I lowered my gun, thinking that the wind was just pushing over stones.

"I don't think-"

An eardrum-rupturing scream came from outside suddenly, making me jump and prompting the others to turn off their flashlights. We all kept as silent as possible, except for the soft whimpering of the colt. His mother comforted him as best as she could, keeping his muzzle against her clothing to try and suppress his crying. The screaming continued for a good five seconds before it turned into a painful gargling sound. Then, nothing.

"What the hell..." Bryson whispered.

I hushed him and continued to listen closely. I heard nothing else.

"Keep your lights off and stay quiet." I whispered.

I sat down next to the ponies. I caressed the little colt's back with a quivering hand, trying to comfort him.

"It's okay, buddy. We're okay." I cooed.

I motioned for the others to watch the opening of the cave.

'_Please let us be okay_.'


End file.
